


Being Broken Makes Us Whole

by Entwife_Incognito



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Estrangement, F/M, Friendship/Love, Minor Violence, Porn, Reconciliation, Romance, relationship angst, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8580043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: The tension is unnerving, excruciating. Jane can't let Lisbon go, not without telling her how much he loves her, what he wants to build with her. But she is shut, not a crack open to him. Until one night, he pushes until she explodes. One-shot, AU. Strong situations. A bit violent, but no blood or gore. And the passion is used for better things. Don't like that? Then, don't read this! Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.Originally posted at FFnet on March 23, 2016. Now here, with edits to improve readability.





	

  
**"There is a crack, a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." –Leonard Cohen, 'Anthem'**  


  


**.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

  


Flashing a weak smile to Jane, Lisbon had left quickly, on a mission to bring down her quarry. Thoughts roiled as she strode to her car. _Condescending jackass! Thinks I need his stupid praise for choosing a couple of hunches to follow? Like he's some kind of erudite professor, training me. I really don't need his shit right now. I can hardly stand to look at him. I need to get away from Jane completely. Thank god he's going with Fischer on the fracking case! I won't have to look at him. Fucking wimp. He can wear that damn ring strung through his nose, for all I care. How many months has it been? I'm the most stupid woman on earth. He's been back for months, acting like nothing should be different. Well, I'll show him different. I hate him!_  


Jane was not as happy as Lisbon. He hardly knew who she was. Everything he did or said aggravated her. It could be anything. Or nothing. Just the fact that he existed and was in her line of sight. What had happened? She knew he was working on the controlling thing. Jesus, he was making progress! It must not be the real problem. But he had so little to go on because he rarely saw her anymore, much less alone. The door clicked shut behind Lisbon and he shook his head.  


_He should have stayed on that damn island, fucking the occasional American tourist. Why did he have to come back? Missing him from afar was a romantic notion completely destroyed by his actual presence. Go for a casual drink with the old team? Since when did I ever do that? And if Jane's invited, I'm definitely out. When is Jane going to get the message to just buzz off? Yeah, he got me this job. Hell, he owed me this job. I'm glad I've got it. He obviously hates it. Why doesn't he just go?_ Lisbon winced, knowing that was the last thing she wanted, but unable to contain the fury in her thoughts. They were unreasonable, she knew, but she had other things to think about. 

Jane could feel the chill of her wrath, a volcano forming under the arctic tundra of her glacial glare. She was going to explode, and the catalyst would be something tiny that would make everything erupt, something minor and completely unpredictable.  


Lorelei. Sean Barlow. Abbott. Fischer. Rigsby and Grace. Cho most of all, even though he had tried to give Jane cover when Rigsby asked him point blank at the bar. "Grace and I . . . we always thought that you and Lisbon would get together." It appeared everybody saw that he was in love with her. Did she? Everybody seemed to think Lisbon was in love with him, too, whether she saw it or not. Jane believed Lisbon loved him deeply, but feared that he would abandon her, an easy trigger given her history. _Guilty,_ he admitted. But he'd also been there for her so many times, even in deadly situations. Didn't that count for anything?  


He'd hidden his love all these years, especially from Lisbon, covered his tracks with her when he'd said or done something too obvious. He knew he had hurt her many times, that she didn't trust him. Things had not been the same between them since she wanted no part of him on the plane ride to their first FBI case. Jesus. Why did he have to pull that stupid stunt in New York? He'd thought it would make them look good, solving the case. Give a message to his jailors that there was nothing they could do to contain him if he was determined to slip away from them. But Lisbon had only seen that he'd slipped away from her. He was such a fucking idiot. He never thought how she would interpret or feel about his behavior.  


Such thoughts followed him day to day. In the bullpen, Jane looked at her back, the beautiful fall of dark, glossy hair. Trim waist. Her hips always seemed the most succulent part of her. In a dead heat with her breasts. But he couldn't see those just now. She had turned her desk around in order not to see him on his couch. Her disdain burned like hot razor wire. It had to stop. They had to find a way to tap the well of their friendship again.  


Coffee in a cup and saucer appeared on Lisbon's desk, steaming and aromatic. Just when she needed it, too. But . . . that was Jane's cup and saucer. She looked up to see a pair of stormy green eyes over a tentative smile.  


"Thought it might be time for a cup."  


Her eyes seemed to go vacant. "No, thanks. I'm too busy." She turned her face to the work on her desk.  


"Too busy for coffee?" He looked at his watch. "At three in the afternoon? You must be having caffeine withdrawal by now."  


"Nope. I'm fine."  


"Should I leave it . . . just in case you need it in a minute?"  


"No. Take it away. I'm sure you need the cup and saucer for your tea."  


_I wanted to give you something of me._ "Oh." He picked up the coffee to take to the breakroom and toss. That had really hurt. He reminded himself that what Lisbon was doing to him was a measure of the hurt and anger she felt from the injury he had done to her tender heart, pursuing vengeance on Red John, and since. Many times. He would never want her to hurt so much again. There was no reason. Couldn't she see? Anyway, it was just a cup of coffee.  


But Jane was determined to try to talk with her. How could they ever settle anything if they didn't talk? It would happen tomorrow. He would make it happen!  


"Lisbon. I need you to walk with me for a few minutes. In the plaza. Outside."  
He stood sideways, his face turned away when she looked up to get a clue from his expression. 

"What? No. I've got work to do."  


Jane's gaze was somber when he turned his head to look at her. "More files and paperwork? No. You're wearing it as armor against me. Please. I need to talk to you. Now. I've been patient. I've waited for a better time. I don't think there's going to be one." His hand gestured discretely toward the doorway. "Please walk with me now before I completely lose it and make a scene in here. I don't feel very well in control."  


Lisbon looked at him, face paling, lips set. Were his clothes hanging on him? She could see he was on the edge, and she didn't want a scene. "All right. Let's walk, Jane."  


The elevator ride was a tense silence, nor did they speak until they were in the plaza, a pleasant place with trees, groomed lawn and benches. He sat as she remained standing.  


"I need to talk about you and me, Lisbon."  


Her shoulders gave a short, sharp shake. "You mean you want to talk about me. Complain, no doubt." Frowning, she kept her face averted.  


"That's not it! I'm not even talking about you. I'm trying to tell you about me."  


"I don't want to hear."  


"I need to tell you. You're still my friend, aren't you? I need my friend."  


Lisbon's posture softened. Jane saw her shoulders drop as she hung her head a little bit. "I suppose I am still your friend."  


"Suppose, Lisbon? Suppose? I know you're mad at me. But you don't even know if you're my friend?" One arm gripped the back of the bench as he scooted tensely to the edge of the seat, staring at her.  


She put her hands in her jacket pockets, turned and looked at his feet. Then she sighed and looked into his eyes. "What is it?"  


"Can you sit?"  


She stepped to the bench and sat down on the opposite end.  


Jane's knees turned towards her, and he took a deep breath before he spoke. Plain. Out with it. "I'm hurting, Lisbon. You're shutting me out and I don't know why."  


"Oh. Mr. Sees All And Knows Best doesn't have a clue?" Guilt pinged her for her cheap insult. She looked away.  


"No. I'm hurting so bad, I can't even think. I can see your hurt and your anger. It's so big, and when I try to imagine it, I feel awful. And I know I've made you feel that way. It's killing me because you're shutting me out and I can't make it right."  


"That's not your job. You don't need to make it right."  


"I do." Jane shook his head, looking at his knees. "Job," he murmured, softly.  


"You can't make it right."  


"You can't feel that way the rest of your life. You'll be miserable. I won't let you."  


Agitated now, Lisbon leaned toward him. "Oh! You won't let me? Look. Just stop. My feelings are my own business. I'm not trusting them to you. You've done nothing but tear me apart. And I've got to get over you." She huffed, a derisive sound. "I have to go."  


"But, Lisbon. I have to tell you. I love you. Deep in my heart and every cell of me."  


She got up and turned her head. "I'm sorry you feel that way." _Cold. That was cold._  


Lisbon walked away in a controlled fury. _He loves me. That's just great. How many years have I wanted to hear him say those words? It's too late now. I just need to transfer out of the Austin field office. Get away from the bastard. I'll never get him out of my system like this. When I think . . . that I wanted him for a lover, husband, to be the father of my family . . . what a dope I've been. No woman should love a man that much. You get lost._ All she wanted to do was go home, throw herself on her bed and sob. But she wanted to tear things up, too. Rip something to shreds. She wished it could be Patrick Jane.  


The next few days, Jane and Lisbon worked on different cases in different cities. Fischer, as usual, had dragged him along with her. It was a tricky case with a lot of suspects, but he'd solved it fairly quickly while she was stumbling around behind him. She was good in a gunfight, serious back-up, he had to give her that. On their last day of the case, Fischer got a phone call.  


"Yeah. Okay. I'll send him along to you." She caught Jane's eye. "Lisbon needs you on her case. She says it needs your way of looking at things. You can head out in the morning if you feel rested enough."  


Oh, he felt rested enough! Also overjoyed and thrilled to be on a case with Lisbon for once. Just to be with her. Maybe they could work out some of their differences, solve some things. At least he would have a chance to talk to her.  


Lisbon was in San Antonio. She'd tried every angle she could think of and got nowhere. The last thing she wanted to do was call for Jane, but finally there was no alternative. She had half-hoped that Fischer would refuse. But the other half of her wanted to solve the case too badly not to ask for him. She booked him a hotel room three floors below her room. It was foolish, she knew, petty. Three floors wouldn't stop Jane from going anywhere he wanted to go. But it gave her a sense of distance and that calmed her. Maybe he would get the message.  


Jane met her at the home of a witness, then reviewed the file in the car and chose a suspect he considered most likely. Lisbon let him have his head and Jane corralled the man before the poor guy knew what hit him. It was the first smile he'd seen on Lisbon's face in his presence for weeks. It made Jane feel warm inside. But it seemed to disappear when she turned to him. It did not reappear while they waited for local police to pick up the man and book him. They exchanged no conversation that wasn't related to the case, and the ride to the hotel was silent. It was still early afternoon.  


Lisbon handed him a key for room 304 and prepared to go her own way in the lobby.  


"What room are you in?"  


Her face was a non-committal stare.  


"In case we need to speak, or talk about a case. You never know when something will come in."  


"627. I'm in 627. I'll call you if a case comes in. Otherwise we leave after breakfast. Give me a call when you've had yours."  


"627? So far? Lisbon. What are you saying? I could use some company. It's too early for me to try to sleep." She wouldn't even eat breakfast with him?  


"I guess I can't help you there." She fairly loped to the elevators, shoulders practically up to her ears.  


Jane watched her go. A defensive posture, the almost exaggerated shoulder lift. She felt guilty. And anxious. She knew she had hurt him. And there was something in her that didn't want to. He gave her a few minutes to get to her room and take a breath. A few minutes after that, he was knocking at her door.  


"Who is it?" he heard quietly from the other side.  


_It could only be Patrick Jane._  


"You mean you're not checking the peephole? Don't play with me, Lisbon."  


"Go away." _He won't._  


"I can't." _I won't._  


"I'm not letting you in."  


"I'll make a scene in the hallway." To prove it, he knocked loudly on the door several times and boomed from his chest, "Lis-bon!"  


A couple of rooms down, a door opened and a middle-aged woman in a shower cap called, "Is everything all right?"  


Loudly, Jane called back to her, "Yes, ma'am. I'm just locked out without my key. I think my wife must be in the shower." The woman ducked back in her room, the door shutting with a click.  


_Fucking two-year old._ That's what she was dealing with. _The little bastard. All I need is the neighbors complaining! He'll only get worse. If it's infuriating, Jane's word is gold._  


Jane heard the latches open and watched the door open a crack. He waited, then assumed she had walked away so that he could let himself in. Lisbon was standing near the edge of the dresser several feet away, arms crossed, legs apart and looking furious.  


He strode towards her with such purpose that Lisbon dropped her arms and moved back a few steps, her mouth open in surprise. But she was even more dumbfounded when he stopped at the dresser, took off his ring and set it there, then took a step back. Jane watched as she eyed the ring with an upraised eyebrow, and her lip curled. Then she folded her arms again and snorted. She obviously intended to say nothing. Fine. It was on him, anyway. "You can't get over me by running from me."  


Lisbon issued a hollow laugh. "Oh?"  


"No. The only way to do it is to try it with me. Try my love, my company, my care."  


Lisbon stared at him. Even Jane couldn't possibly believe the words coming from his mouth. She switched tack, snorting a laugh. "Like I haven't tried it for nearly thirteen years. Jane, this is a play and it's really transparent."  


"That's right, Lisbon. I'm making a play for you and I want to be transparent. I want you to know how I feel about you, what I want for us."  


"Us. There's no us, Jane." _He wants . . . us?_  


"Because you won't let there be. Because you won't give me a chance."  


"Me? Give you a chance? You son of a bitch. Son of a bitch! You've had twelve years of chances and you've pissed in my face every time! Fuck you! Another chance? Are you crazy? I'm fresh out of those." The nerve of that man!  


"I know you love me. I don't want you to be bitter and angry. I love you. If you let me love you, it will be all right. You'll see. Trust me. Just trust me."  


Fury threatened to become wrath, demanding action that Lisbon didn't want to satisfy. But it wouldn't stop boiling. "Jesus Christ, Jane! I'm going to lose it if you don't shut up! Trust you? When have you ever shown me that I can? All you ever did was use it to manipulate me." Her voice turned low and gravelly, her expression threatening. "And take off without a look back at the wreckage you left behind."  


Lisbon's face was deep red and radiating so much heat that she was sweating. Jane, even unsure what she might do, was relieved to see her in a passion. She frightened him, knowing her physical power, but if the anger was coming out, so could the love and passion. He was going to push it, even if she wound up killing him. _At least she doesn't have her gun on._  


Measured words flowed from barely controlled emotion. "I loved you, Jane. So many years, I pined, dreamed of you, waiting for you to be free. Free of Red John. Free of exile. Free of detention. Free of that damn ring—no! I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I know what it means to you. I just longed for you to take it off. Longed for you to look at me with that kind of love, the kind that made you wear that ring. But I was never worthy. Never meant that much to you. If it takes anger and bitterness to make a break, that'll do fine. Because I am angry, you son of a bitch. Sure I'm angry at myself. But how am I supposed to fight my heart? You held all the cards. You say stop or go. If bitterness will help me, so be it. I have to get out!"  


"No. You don't. You have to come in, Lisbon. That's where the love is, the happiness." He opened his arms and started to walk toward her.  


Lisbon just stared at him. The emotions coursing through her body and mind created a massive battlefield where armies defended her and blood spilled into the earth. Where her love was a precious thing, needing to be protected at all costs. Where her love escaped like tendrils of a beautiful vine, trying to reach its only object. She pruned it with a slash of her rapier, and her wrath erupted like a lava under pressure when she saw he was moving slowly toward her. The most dangerous person she knew, because he professed to love her, drawing those living tendrils to himself. When he crossed the boundary of her reach, she acted from deep instinct, a place where she didn't need her mind.  


"You're hurting me . . . Lisbon, don't!"  


His plea drew her from raging instinct to look at what she was doing. Jesus! She had his wrist to his neck! Any more pressure and she would force his arm out of its socket, or break it! His feet were flailing as he struggled, trying to cope with the pain and the fear, relieve the pressure on his arm. The expanding power of rage coursed through her, numbing her to its monstrous intent. The thoughts in her head were to cause pain, injury, exact . . . revenge? Oh, Jesus!  


She released him immediately and he rolled to his back, gripping and rubbing the arm, trying to catch the breath that had left him when the panic took over.  


"Jane! Jane. Are you all right? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean . . . "  


He looked at her silently, holding his arm and gasping, eyes wide and round, dilated to ink and the whites showing his fear as tears leaked out the corners.  


"Please, Jane. Are you all right? I'm so sorry. I lost it."  


"I knew you were angry, Lisbon. I didn't know you . . . hated . . . me." His voice broke as he croaked out the last few words, struggling not to break down. Then he took a shuddering breath and wailed like an injured child, sobbing as he tried to get control of himself. He rolled away and curled his body into a defensive posture, wailing again as a man bereft. He'd lost everything.  


"No! No, Jane. I don't hate you. Honest I don't." Lisbon's hands floated over his back, trying to soothe him with the softest touch, calm the fear she had instilled in him, but he shivered away. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to lose control and hurt you. I was out of my mind. I didn't even know how far gone I was until I heard you beg me not to hurt you." She stroked his hair and he didn't flinch from her this time, snuffling through the sobbing spasms as he began to calm under her touch and her words.  


"You don't hate me?"  


"No. Of course not. I could never hate you."  


"But you wanted to kill me?"  


Lisbon couldn't help but smile a little at his need for reassurance from her. God, she loved him so much. How did they get in this terrible mess? "No. Just tear you limb from limb, I think."  


"Oh. Well, that's not as bad, I guess." They had broken through Lisbon's fury, and that gave Jane hope. "Hurts, though."  


"Oh, I know. Can you ever forgive me?"  


"I don't know. I never saw you like that. You hated me."  


"No. Never. But I did lose control." She lay down behind him to kiss his sweaty neck, nosing the damp curls aside, the energy from her spent wrath transforming into a flood of desire that roared like a furnace coming on in winter. When she rolled him to his back, he didn't resist.  


Jane watched in more than a little shock as Lisbon sat on his thighs, pushing his loose shirttails up and away. Her hands were little white doves, fluttering at his belt buckle, unfastening his pants and zipping them open. Cupping her hands on his underwear, she found his swelling cock lying sideways and pushed it to lie straight on his belly. Her fingers tucked into the waist of his clothing, catching his underwear to give it a tug. "Lift up a little."  


"What are you doing?" Maybe they needed to think this through . . .  


"Something we both need to get out of our systems. I'm giving us a taste of what we've been wanting. I'm sorry if it's seems fast and crude. But maybe you need to trust me on this one."  


He couldn't believe what was happening but he had absolutely no argument with-- were they having angry sex or make-up sex? After what he'd just come through, he desperately hoped it would be make-up sex.  


When he lifted his hips, she pulled everything down, tucking her fingers gently under his balls to help free his underwear, damp with sweat and sticking from the struggle with her just a few minutes before. His scent was strong, both sharp and musty and all man. _Jane._ It was a jolt to everything woman in Lisbon.  


When she had everything down to his knees, she put her hands on him, petting his cock into madness. Now he was writhing in desperation to be inside her, grunting and gasping for her.  


"Is this all right?" Jane in her hands! The sensation of stone silk under her fingers drove her wild with desire.  


"It feels wonderful." He watched as she quickly removed the clothing from her lower body. She was glorious, all smooth muscle, the dark patch over her core, and glistening as she stood straddled over him. Then she squatted and took him into her hand. Her core was deep pink and its scent washed up to him, sweat and meat and feminine musk. _Teresa!_ He wanted his nose in that scent! His tongue! "But, Lisbon?"  


She let go of him to rest her knees on either side of his waist and leaned forward to look into his beautiful eyes, waiting for him to continue. Surely he was not going to refuse this, not when he had just asked her to let him in to love her, trust him.  


"I really didn't like the foreplay."  


"Oh." She frowned and her bottom lip quivered in sorrow. "I know. I'm so sorry. We broke something and all the poison spilled out." Planting little kisses along his jaw, she stopped to hover over his lips, waiting for an invitation.  


"And this is what's behind the poison?" He put his arms around her and lifted his head to receive her kiss, melting in its heat.  


"Yes. Jane. I don't hate you. Ever."  


"Is there more poison in there?"  


Her smile was kind, understanding his caution. "No. I think it's all gone now. It was such an explosion. I've never been overwhelmed like that."  


"Well, I guess that's all right then. I hope I get a chance to overwhelm you in other ways." He looked at the lingering sadness in her eyes. "Because I love you, Lisbon."  


"I know." And then she rose up, guided his cock where she wanted it and impaled herself on him, making them both cry out in pleasure.  


Jane shivered. Lisbon felt him fill her tightly, sliding in on her wet. She arched, straining to take that much pleasure and stimulation, her voice a series of shallow gasps and little cries until she caught her breath. Then she rode him gently, telling him how good he felt, how happy she was to be joined with him at last. He slipped his hands under her blouse and pushed up her bra to fill them with her tender breasts. It made her loosen her hips to a different angle to glide swift and deep on the full length of his erection, bringing them both to gasping orgasm.  


Jane hadn't felt that much heat and slick in many years. Her core seemed to suck on him as it prepared for orgasm, then gripped him, squeezing and almost vibrating as he came, too. His mind had turned him loose long before, assigning him the mission to pump seed into her as hard and as fast as he could, and her body encouraged him.  


It was quick and somewhat desperate but it was their story and it pleased them. Jane gripped the tops of her thighs and watched in wonder as she had leaned away, her hips lithely doing all the work until she pulsed with him in ecstasy. Her head followed the arch of her back as her hips slowly quieted and all that was left were their hearts pounding together where their quivering flesh joined.  


When Lisbon looked at him again, her cheeks were wet and her brow wrinkled as if she had a terrible headache. She looked at him with pain-slit eyes, blinking tears. "I love you so much, Patrick. I can't help it."  


He opened his arms to her. "Just come, Lisbon. Come to me."  


Settling herself softly on his chest, she felt his arms gently embrace her as she crooned her relief and sorrow. "I've been crazy. I never wanted to hurt you. And I wanted to hurt you as bad as I could. I made myself hurt you."  


"I know. And you did very well." He patted her back. "I deserved it."  


"You didn't deserve that." And she pointed to the floor meaning when she had tried to rip his arm off.  


"No. I didn't really. But I was pushing pretty hard."  


She issued a few throaty sobs. "I'm feeling so many things, I don't know what to do. I've made myself insane trying to get over you. I can't do it."  


"Awwww, Teresa. I've got you. Just feel all those feelings and I'll take care of you right now. It doesn't matter what you say, if you laugh or cry or do both at the same time. I love you and you don't have to worry about a thing for a while. I've got you in my arms and I'll take care of everything."  


"It won't be long until I've known you fourteen years. That's two whole new bodies. And you're in every cell. You're a part of me, Jane. I can't get away from that." She gripped his sides and cried like doves into his heart.  


Jane stroked her hair and smoothed her back until she started to sniffle and calm. "Me, too, Teresa. You're in all my cells, too. I want you there."  


Rolling them to their sides, he puckered tiny tender kisses on her face before he took her lips like ripe fruit.  


She sighed and groaned a little. "You're making me hot."  


Removing her blouse and bra properly, his hands roved every contour of her body, sighing at the hills and valleys he found. Lisbon unbuttoned his shirt and released him long enough to wriggle out. Vigorously moving his legs, he rid himself of his lower clothing, kicking his shoes away and toeing his socks off.  


Eyes full of glee met her hot ones. "Naked!" he said with relish, wagging his eyebrows over a hungry grin. He rubbed their bodies together, savoring the feel of her warm, full breasts.  


She smiled at him through tear-burnt eyes, puffy and red-rimmed. Her nose was hot pink and wet, but she had never seemed more beautiful to Jane.  


"Yes, and you've lit fires all over me with those beautiful hands. What are you going to do to put them out?" She pressed her pelvis into his belly, petting him as her knees gripped his sides. It aroused him so quickly he wanted to lift and impale her so that she could do that thing with her hips all over again.  


"Bed!" he said, matching Teresa's growling voice and wide grin. He led with his tongue when he kissed her, swiping the warm wet between her willing lips. Then he stood, scooping her up, and carried her to bed.  


They were eager, expressive and gentle with one another. Jane took the time to fully enjoy her breasts, so sensitive to his mouth and hands. Laying his erect flesh between her folds, he ran himself back on forth on her clit while continuing to make love to her breasts until she came, curled up and then grabbed him to guide him in while she was still in spasm.  


Jesus, what a greeting for his cock! He slid quickly to the bottom of her and just rested, feeling her wonderful rhythmic squeeze. Then he knelt and crouched over her, draped her legs across his thighs to lift her hips so that he could take her as he wanted, deep and long, spiraling in. Lisbon grabbed the sheets and moaned loudly, taking every stroke, waiting for him. Her moaning turned to endless short groans as she thrashed her head and tried to hold on.  


"Are you ready for me to come? Open your eyes. I want to see you, Teresa."  


Her gaze seemed so deep, Jane had the sensation of falling into her as he came, her name on his lips. She let go and followed him, huge groans of relief and satisfaction as her orgasm shot through her body. Jane loved seeing her release, her adoring blissful eyes on him. Spent, he settled beside her, scooping her close and curving his body as if to protect her. Lisbon edged closer, pressing into the shelter he offered, her arm holding his as it wrapped across her ribs. They napped.  


Lisbon woke to the sound of flushing water as Jane came out of the bathroom.  


"Lisbon, we can't miss the Riverwalk while we're in San Antonio. Put on a comfortable dress. I'm taking you to dinner and we'll walk it off on the river afterwards."  


The Riverwalk was lovely at night. The lights of the shops and restaurants along the way were effective but did not disturb the darkness. Outdoor seating glowed under colorful umbrellas. Lit from candles underneath, they added to the jewel-like setting. A multi-person gondola, encircled by softly lit colorful panels, putted quietly up and down the water. It reminded Jane of Paris, so romantic.  


"Have you been to Paris, Lisbon?"  


She shook her head, smiling contentedly at the scene. "Never out of the States."  


"I want to take you there. It's so romantic, just like here. We'd love it so much."  


"I'd love to be in Paris with you, Patrick. It sounds wonderful!"  


Their walk was slow and very romantic since Jane stopped to kiss her every twenty feet or so. She enjoyed it, but disliked that all the walking disrupted the kissing. Finally, she pulled him off the walkway and into a dark corner to taste his entire mouth with her tongue.  


Jane was so lost in passion, he would have lifted her skirt and taken her against the brick wall. And she would have let him if he had pressed her. Instead, she lowered her hand and found him underneath his trousers, stroking him as he lay sideways and fully erect. He moaned and jutted his hips to push himself into her hand. She positioned his cock so that it was standing against his belly, the head near the waistband. Jane pushed her bodice down to uncover a breast, his voice tiny grunts as his mouth found her nipple while his hand wandered under her dress to find the damp crotch of her panties and slip a finger in. Lisbon gasped and slid her hand into his trousers. It was too tight for both him and her arm, so she quickly opened his pants to give them enough room.  


Now only his underwear covered them as he faced her and used his finger to drive her crazy. She in turn gripped him, moving his skin with her strokes, then lavishing attention on the head.  


Soon she heard in her ear, "Cover me, I don't want to muss your dress." She moved his cock back into his underwear as she continued to stroke and pull and pet, but could only squeeze him while he finished her in a flurry of fingers inside and outside her body. Keeping her cries as quiet as possible, Jane covered them with kisses and backed her hard against the wall when her knees went weak. She found that her hand was wet with him, and the front of his underwear soaked inside.  


"Oh! You're going to be uncomfortable."  


"I won't mind it a bit, remembering what you did to me to that made me this way.'  


They kissed as he zipped up his pants and she pulled her bodice up to cover her breast. He offered his handkerchief and she cleaned her hand.  


They took that trip to Paris in the summer, growing more deeply in love, something neither had thought possible. A few days after returning, Patrick and Teresa were married in a simple ceremony on the Riverwalk in San Antonio. It was night, but there, where darkness and the lighting were at peace with one another, the Janes could remember their Paris.

**.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

  


**"Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." -Leonard Cohen, 'Anthem'**


End file.
